Dirt Will Never Hurt You!

.
I remember when the only washing we got was the evening before Sunday church. By that time the skinny black snakes had grown around your neck. You know, the ones from sweating and playing in the dirt.

Remember when to wash behind your ears was more important than washing under your arms. I never did understand why.

By the end of the week, the rust around your ankles was so thick you had to soak your feet in a pan of water first. But, but, but, only after the water was used to "cleanse" more delicate portions of your sister's and your own skin.  You know, Mother only heated ONE teakettle of hot water for everybody to share, including her.

Those were the days before the word GERMS was invented. Lord, Lord, the word "calories" came even later.

It did my soul good to watch my two grandsons having a smashing good time peeling the sticky pine bark from logs of a green pine that we cleared to get the power to the cabin. If you ever got a bit of pine rosin on your hands, or stuck to your windshield, you know how sticky the stuff is. These kids peeled that bark off and enjoyed the slippery and pungent sap. (I don't know if their clothes ever got clean again)

Well, out in the woods there is no warm water and soap. To tamp down the stickiness, in order for them eat a sandwich, they simply rubbed a little red mud on their hands. Papa's solution. Dirt is clean!

Works for them!  Works for me!  Did they die yet? Not likely.

A little dirt is good for the digestion process. It helps grind the food. Just ask a chicken.
.

Mystery Blossom

.
For most of its life, this little flower looks like grass in the flower patch. Then, all of a sudden, almost hidden by the taller plants, it sports these pretty blossoms. It does not last too long and does not always bloom. At least not while I'm watching.

One person told me it is a Jerusalem Star. What do you think it is called?
.

The Land of The Free?

.
Are you being eyed?   --Feel like you're going to be jumped?

Do you remember before "They" kept track of your phone calls?

Do you remember before "They" kept track of what you bought in the store?

Do you remember before "They" followed you around by your GPS in the car?

Do you remember before "They" could see your buying habits by your charge card?

Do you remember before "They" knew who you voted for?

Do you remember before "They" made your every wart on your butt available on Google?

Well, that was when we as Americans were FREE! When the "They" REPRESENTED you.

When you saved your money, eagerly waiting to pay for your wish in cash.
When you knew who your neighbor was and didn't mind sharing a bowl of pintos, chopped onions and cornbread with.

My, my. The days when you could look into a man's eye and saw his soul.

Lord God, don't forsake America!
.

Do You Ever Stand Out in a Crowd?

.
Are you aiming to stand out in a crowd?

What do you want to show off?

Or, do you sometimes feel you want to hide and can't?

 . . . 'em are not eggs from Kroger.  Auch! A little okra for supper would have helped.

Looking at the bright side, most often there is a pleasant ending to odd situations.
.

Carol's Daylilies

.
Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will He clothe you. Oh you of little faith!  
                                                                                               NIV Luke 12:27-28

Papa, What Did Henry Do?

.
For years now, my grandchildren knowing I can spin a story, have been asking about Henry. Henry is a stuffed doll, about 30 inches high, who has been relegated to stand in the corner. He is hiding his face in shame, ball cap backward on his head, bibbed overalls with bandana or slingshot sticking from its pocket.

Ain't he pitiful?

I've been challenged often when grandchildren enter the house and ask "Papa what did Henry do?" On the spot I have to come up with some yarn that makes them giggle. I have written several little rhymes about the fellow and his sidestepping escapades. Here is one I'm going to share now. Let me know if you want to hear some more.

HENRY IN THE CORNER

Papa, what did Henry do?

Oh, . . . he’s a fellow just like you!

He is a doll you should know,

A puppet that will never grow.

Stuffed with rags––he has no face;

Standing in a corner is his place. 

Papa, tell, what did Henry do?

Well, . . . I hope it wasn’t you!

He made a mess he could not hide,

With puffed-up chest he showed his pride.

He used ketchup like some finger-paint,

Enough on the floor to make you faint.

Papa, Papa, is Henry in big time trouble

Squeezing that tempting ketchup bottle?

Yes! . . . Henry needs a talking to––

So listen up . . . make sure it isn’t you!

If the bottle you’re allowed to squeeze,

Hold it tight and do not sneeze,

Or you’ll have ketchup to your knees.

Papa, did Henry heed your warning––

To be a good boy in the morning?

No! . . . sticky red on hands and chin,

Showed to all where he has been.

He was shooting ketchup with each squirt; 

The same as slinging gobs of sticky dirt,

Up and down his yellow shirt.

Papa, will little Henry ever learn––

So your loving favor he will earn?

Is he on the way of getting hurt?

Why can’t he play with plain old dirt?

Does he dream all night of ketchup,

Then hunts the bottle when he wakes up?

Does he love to wallow in a mess?

Papa, . . . is our Henry kinda hopeless?

Papa, I’m still worried, what did Henry do?

Are now his doings good and true?

Good and true . . . I cannot say,

With ketchup he still likes to play.

The lessons he has not forgotten,

The little boy is spoiled just rotten.

Now he lays in bed on clean white cotton,

Dipping fries in ketchup from his bellybutton!

Papa, you know Henry does confess

Every time he makes a mess.

Standing in the corner he is so sweet,

With worn boots on rag-stuffed feet.

Hiding his face in deep confession,

Being sorry for his wild transgression.

You wouldn’t punish him––you love him so!

Just like me and sister this we know.

Thank you Papa. . .   Look no face!

Below the green, the water is clear!

.
We've strange green seeds floating on top of the pond. It is not pollen. It is the size and feel of cornmeal, uniform in size. It never has appeared before in the ten years we've had the pond.

The bad part is, with this stuff on top, some scum is forming. Now, with this latest heatwave 95+, anything will grow like crazy.

One good cannon ball jump into the pond does temporarily clear it away. The water is crystal clear to five feet below the top. The grandchildren having a whooping good time.

Sixteen Beissers partook of pizza, fruit, cupcakes, donuts and ice cream in the sweltering 95+ heat.

Only FX 4 and Jacob were missing. They were climbing a 14,000 ft mountain in Colorado in below freezing temperature. Something isn't right here?

Bailing the paddle boat. Getting ready to paddle off into the shady and quiet side of the pond.

.